Angels and Saints
by OnTheWildside
Summary: It had been eight years, but I could still remember every little detail to his face, the way he smelled, how his body felt against mine. I wasn't sure it was them causing all this commotion in Boston, but I knew if it was, there was no way I was gonna let him get away a second time. Rated M for language and smut. Follows Spiritus Sancti One-Shot.
1. Chapter 1

I got the call early in the morning at an ungodly hour that I was completely used to. It was my dear friend Tracy on the other line, no doubt calling me into work early.

"Becks! You'll never believe it! You remember the Saints, right?" My heart leapt at the reference. "Like the vigilante mobster killers from when we were in high school? They're back. Kevin called me this morning. I got the scoop! We're likely the only station to hear about it. You need to get your ass down here!"

"It's still early. I need to look cute if I'm to show my face this early." I said, trying to sound as calm as possible, thought my heart was racing.

"Well hurry! This is gonna be our big break!" she cried, hanging up on me.

I tried to collect my thoughts as I rushed into the shower. Eight years. It had been eight years since the last time there was, for lack of a better word, a massacre in Boston. The Saints, as everyone so lovingly referred to them, had disappeared completely from the area. No one had so much as uttered the name in the recent years. It was just a part of fine Boston history most had overlooked.

In those eight years, I had many accomplishments. I graduated from ColumbiaUniversity in New York with a degree in English, and then followed up with a Masters in Journalism. I came back to Boston shortly after to take care of my father. His health was dwindling of late and he had to quit his job as manager at Noland's. I got a job at the local news station. "Rebecca Ramone" as they had affectionately deemed me. Because "McGerkin is an atrocious last name."

My friend from high school, Tracy, had also gotten a job at the station, writing the odd story, but mostly just running the teleprompter. She had high aspirations to be a director, but her dreams fell short of reality. She had married Kevin out of high school and he got on the local police squad. He was now chief, six years later.

I remember my life eight years ago fondly. Not only was I young and reckless, but I was madly in love. I always selfishly felt like my life was torn out from under me. I was foolish. You see, I was in love with Murphy MacManus – one half of the vigilante crime fighting team fondly known as the Boston Saints.

The second semester of my senior year in high school, we had a torrid, secret love affair, against all odds and despite our ten year age difference. I still hadn't told anyone. The only person who knew was my father and that's only because Murphy had made it obvious at work, bragging about me to his brother on the job. I wasn't exactly old enough to be with him at the time and it only made our lives more interesting with me sneaking in and out of his apartment to make curfew.

I shut off the water and climbed out, wrapping my drenched body in a towel and staring at myself in the mirror through the fog. I still looked at lot like I did in high school. I just looked older. More mature. I wondered if he would recognize me now, after all these years. I felt silly. It had been so long, he had most likely move on by now. He and his brother, Connor, had no trouble finding ladies. Wherever it was they had ended up, I'm sure I was the only one stuck in the past.

I fixed my hair and makeup for the cameras, diligently and meticulously as if it were any day and then rushed downstairs to my car, racing through the dark to the address Tracy had texted to me while I was in the shower.

"Father Douglas McKinney." Kevin explained to us as I entered the church. The man was strewn across the floor with pennies lovingly placed on his eyes.

"This isn't right." I muttered. Tracy eyed me in response. "The Saints kill mobsters, murderers, drug dealers. Not priests." I explained, kneeling down and looking closer at the corpse in front of me.

"She's an amateur expert on the Saints. She wrote a thesis paper about them in school. Didn't you get some kind of award?" Tracy asked. I only nodded in acknowledgement. No one understood my obsession with the Saints.

"The feds will be here soon. We called them in. This isn't in our jurisdiction anymore. The Saints are felons, now. I need you girls out of the church in a few minutes." Kevin reasoned.

"No worries. We can do this from across the street. Use the church as a background."

"I'm not reporting a lie. This can't have been them." I protested.

"His arms are crossed over his chest and there are pennies on his eyes. It's pretty much a done deal." Kevin said as he walked us out.

"Anyone could copy that calling card. I'm telling you, this isn't right."

"We can just say words like "allegedly" and "supposedly." It'll be like we're not even lying." Tracy said. I could tell she was seething with anticipation. She wanted to get behind the camera more than anything instead of playing secretary. This was going to be her big break. I couldn't say no.

"This is Rebecca Ramone and I am here on the scene as investigations take place right behind me. In this local cathedral, we have received word that a beloved father has been sentenced to death in a familiar fashion. He was found this morning with crossed arms and with pennies placed over his eyes. As many of you may remember, this is the calling card of the beloved Boston Saints who have been seemingly MIA for the past decade. Is this calling card a fake copy? Or the real deal? From Channel 10 News, back to you at the station."

* * *

"Eh, Murph! You'll never believe it! Get yer ass out 'ere!" Connor shouted from the hotel room.

Murphy pulled on his boxers and put his towel over his shoulders, opening the bathroom door to see his brother, sprawled across the bed, watching television.

"Ye miss'd 'er!" Connor screamed.

"Miss'd who? What are ye talkin' about, Con?"

"Tha bosses daughter, ya leprechaun dick! Angel face is on the news! She's got 'erself a new name. Ye think she got 'erself hitched?"

Murphy hadn't forgotten his misbegotten love affair with the bosses daughter. On the contrary, it was the only fond memory while he had been in Ireland the past few years. He had every intention of coming back for her, but time had gotten the best of him. He was stuck on the farm for far too long and by the time things had blown over, he had reasoned that she had moved on by now.

They had only been back in Boston a few hours. After the long boat ride over, the Saints and their new companion, Romeo, stopped at a hotel before they made their first hit later tonight at the docks.

Murphy would be lying if he said the possibility of seeing her hadn't crossed his mind. "Ya, well she always deserved bett'r." He mumbled, hanging his head in defeat and turning back to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

"What's with him?" Romeo asked.

"Oy, just the love uh 'is life."

* * *

I was disappointed. I never really expected to see the boys again, but a part of me had never stopped hoping that they really would come back. The chances that it was them today were slim to none.

Our story had made it on the news for each hourly update on the situation. Tracy was ecstatic and we all went out for drinks the following Saturday to celebrate our success.

"To Tracy!" I toasted, "You'll be behind the camera before you know it!" I cried, as my phone began to ring. I glanced at the caller ID before excusing myself outside for better reception. It was my boss, Clinton.

"Hello?"

"Rebecca! I need your ass down by the docks! Please tell me you're free!"

"What's going on?"

"There was another hit down here! It's a fucking mess! We think it was the Saints!"

I laughed to myself at the notion that people really believed it was them. "Alright. I can be there in twenty." I sighed to myself. So much for a fun night out. I looked down. I was a little over dressed to do the news, but it wasn't the worst thing that could happen.

I ran back inside and explained the situation to Tracy and the next thing I knew we were pulling up to the scene our boss had described to us.

There were bodies everywhere. The scene was roped off and press wasn't allowed clearance, but I heard some of the police officers mention the facts. If I didn't know any better, I would say it was them.

"There's Bloom! We need a statement! Get that goddamn camera on!" Clinton shouted.

"Lords fuckin' name." I muttered out of habit.

The camera man readied himself as Tracy handed me a microphone and I went chasing down Special Agent Eunice Bloom. "Miss Bloom! Miss Bloom! Please, a word." I shouted. She continued walking past us, marching through the crowd. "The people of Boston have a right to know!"

Suddenly, the fiery redhead turned on her heels and took one sound step toward me. "You want my official word? Off the record? It wasn't fucking them." And with that she turned back around and sauntered off.

Completely discouraged, I turned to the camera and made a motion as if I was slitting my throat, telling the camera man to cut. My hopes completely extinguished.


	2. Chapter 2

"It was 'er, Con! I'm tellin' ye!" Murphy screamed, his twin holding him back. The man was convinced that as they were driving away, Rebecca was pulling up.

"Even if it was 'er, we've got ta be goin' now, Murph! It's not gonna do neither uh ye much good if ye end up dead or in jail, now is it?" He reasoned. He managed to calm down his brother enough to get the group to Doc's. It wasn't safe to stay at the hotel much longer and there was no where they felt safer or more at home than McGinty's.

* * *

"We lost the scoop of the century!" Tracy whined "I don't care what that bitch said, this is most definitely those Saint fucks."

"There will be another story, Trace." I reasoned, fighting my own inward battle. I was excited at the possibility that the MacManus' had returned to Boston, but a part of me still couldn't believe it. I had gotten my hopes up time and time before. I was tired of the disappointment.

"You're right! If it is them, they aren't going to stop until Yakavetta's whole squad is dead! We need to find out where they'll hit next!"

"This isn't Scooby-fucking-Doo, Tracy. We can't just run around and play detective."

"Like hell we can't. We're journalists. The story doesn't come to us. We go find the story!" She cried, just before storming off.

Left alone in my tiny cubicle, my mind began to wander. If I were a MacManus, where exactly would I hide in Boston? The thought that came to mind was so blatantly obvious, it was almost insane. I decided to go see for myself.

* * *

I pulled up to the curb in front of McGinty's and instantly regretted my decision. Who was to say Doc was still here. The bar had been closed for some years, but Doc still lived upstairs. I hadn't been to this part of town in years.

After minutes of arguing internally with myself, I finally got the nerve to go to the door. To my surprise, it was open, and the bar seemed to be empty, but open.

"Doc?" I called, looking for any sign of movement. I took a seat at my usual stool and waited. A few minutes passed and the door behind the bar eventually opened and the sweet old man showed his face.

"Well I'll be a monkey's uncle! Angel face!" he proclaimed. I blinked at the old, forgotten nickname. He came around the counter and embraced me warmly. "What brings you 'ere, l-l-l-l-lass?"

"I think you already know the answer to that, Doc."

"Aye, I 'ave an idea. I been watchin' ye on the news!"

"Then you know what's been going on?"

"Aye. You'd have to be livin' under a r-r-r-rock to not know."

"I'll get right down to why I'm here, Doc. Have you seen the boys?"

Silence filled the room. Doc sighed deeply, considering his answer. "I 'ave no idea where they are, miss."

I let out a deep breath of frustration. "Do you think it's them?"

"I'd be stupid not ta."

"You think they're safe?" I barely whispered.

"Don't chu be worryin' 'bout the boys. They can handle 'emselves."

With a heavy heart, I left empty handed.

* * *

"The lass, she came ta see ye." Doc told Murphy as the boys returned from seeing Gorgeous George. Murphy stopped in his tracks.

"She knows we're 'ere?" Connor asked.

"I didn't t-t-t-tell 'er anythin'. She asked if I had seen ye boys."

"Ye told 'er no?" Murphy whispered.

"Aye."

"Ye can go see 'er when we've finished 'ere, Murph. Don't go loosin' yer wits 'fore we've finished what we set ta do, my dear brudder."

"She left somethin' for ye." The old man admitted, reaching in his pocket and handing Murphy her business card. On the back she had written her cell phone number.

"Thank ye. Now let's get this shit over with."

* * *

"They aren't even letting people within a block of this place! What kind of shit is that?" Tracy protested. A few hours after I left Doc's, there was another shooting in a bar not far from the docks called the Silver Peso. Kevin told us that there were no pennies, no arms crossed, no sign of the Saints at all. This was different from the other shootings.

"Can we just get this rolling? It's freezing out here in this skirt." I complained. It was way later than I would normally stay out on a night like this. The streets were crowded with police vehicles and I could barely hear myself think.

"And say what? 'Uh, we don't know what's going on but it's probably some hormone induced Irish twins with a god complex?"

"It sure doesn't sound like them, Tracy. We just say men were shot and we go home. That's all that's been released so that's all we can say." I turned to the camera man. "Let's get this rolling." I muttered and waited for my cue. "This is Rebecca Ramone coming to you live from the streets of Boston. Behind me, officials were shocked to find the scene in this local bar where several men from a local gang were found shot to death, seemingly from their own guns. It is believed that in this bar, a fight ensued and in a crime of passion, guns were drawn. There were no survivors. We will bring you more when more information becomes available."

"And cut!" The camera man shouted, lowering the boom mike and his equipment, beginning to pack it up and stow it away in the station's van.

Just as I was walking to my car, my phone rang. The number was restricted and I almost didn't answer. "Hello?"

"It's nice ta see ye. I've missed that pretty face, that voice uh yers." A familiar, husky voice replied.

Reflexively, I immediately broke out into a smile. "Where are you?" I looked around eagerly. To my chagrin, I failed to see the face I had been longing to see for so long.

"Look up." He said mysteriously.

I did as I was told and from up above the bar, I spied a shadowy figure. I couldn't see any features, only a tall, dark man in an over sized trench coat, standing over the city like a comic book super hero. I smiled up at him as that warm feeling began to spread through out my body. "I need to see you." I admitted.

"Not 'ere. It's not safe. I'll come ta ye."

"Is that a promise?" I whispered seductively.

"Baby, ye know it."


	3. Chapter 3

**This is, without a doubt, my favorite chapter. Let me know what you think! I love reading feedback! **

I gave him my address and he promised to come as soon as he could get through the crowd.

I had a condo uptown. It was a considerable drive to there from the docks. My heart was racing the entire way home. As I got to the elevator, I was literally shaking. I got inside and immediately poured myself a stiff drink and sat down to wait.

I woke with a start as there was a knock at my door. I glanced around, still in a drunken daze. 3:49am, my cell phone said. I also had 3 missed calls from a restricted number. I finished the shot I had left on the table and walked to the door, peering through the peep hole. On the other side was a figure, dressed completely in black, including a black ski mask and long pea coat. If I didn't know better, at this point I would have been terrified and probably would be on the phone with 911. Fortunately, I knew Murphy MacManus.

"Yes?" I called through the door. "Can I help you?"

"Ye certainly can, miss. It seems I've lost somethin' of great importance ta me. I was wonderin' if ye might be able ta help me."

"What exactly did you lose?"

"It's not really a 'what', it's more of a 'who'."

"Oh, I see. Well, I'd be happy to help you, but I simply can't let a stranger inside. You see, I've heard tell of these dangerous men in the city, perhaps you've heard of them?"

"Lass, I can assure ye, you'll come to no harm."

_It's a little late for that_ I thought as I unlocked the bolts on the door. The door was barely open before I was shoved against the wall, his hands caressing my thigh, my stomach, holding me up against the wall, supporting my entire frame. His lips were covering mine and I barely had a chance to breathe. "Stop. Wait a second." I mumbled against his lips. He pulled back slightly, setting me back down. I reached up and placed my palm against his cheek, still covered by the ski mask. All I could see were his crystal blue eyes and his fiendish lips, barely breaking out in a smirk from all the turmoil he was no doubt causing within me. I tugged at the mask and let it fall to the floor, staring into the face I had been longing to see for so long. "How dare you." I sighed.

"'Ow dare I what, Angel Face?"

"Think that you can just beguile me after so long. Things aren't that easy."

"They're as easy or as 'ard as ye make 'em, love."

I slid my arms under his coat and fell into his chest, breathing in the intoxicating scent of whiskey, stale cigarettes, and manly musk that was Murphy. I leaned back and looked at him. "Come, have a drink with me. We have catching up to do." I said lucidly as I led him to my couch. I grabbed another glass and sat it next to mine on the coffee table. We sat facing each other and Murphy filled the glasses, handing one to me and downing the other himself. "Where have you been?" I blurted out.

"The mother land." He said coolly as he ran his tongue along his lips.

"You went back to Ireland? To do what?"

"Aye. We 'ave a farm. A sheep farm."

"Connor and Murphy MacManus were content on a sheep farm for eight years?"

"Not content, really. We just were. Nothin' we weren't used to before."

"That sounds painfully dull. No offense."

"No, yer right." He laughed, pouring another shot for each of us. "S'why we left the first time." He nodded at my glass when I didn't drink immediately and I turned the glass up to my mouth, already feeling the buzz of the alcohol in my system.

"You came back because of Father McKinney. You didn't kill him, did you?"

"Do ye really 'aveta ask?"

"But the men at the docks? The bar brawl? That was you and Connor."

"Aye," The room became silent. Murphy knew I didn't like to think of the prospect of him killing people. Even before, when I found out what the boys were doing, I kind of pretended like I didn't know until they had been shot. That kind of sobered me to the reality of what they had been doing between out trysts. "Ye know a lot about it, miss big shot reporter." He laughed.

"You know about that?"

"I saw ye this mornin' at the bar. There a reason yer so interested in these 'Saints'?" he smirked.

"They're extremely interesting, don't you think?" I played along. "I like to think of myself as a Saints expert."

"An expert, huh?" he scowled. "What 'appened to yer writin'? Ye used ta be so good at it."

"Journalism happened. It seemed like the next logical step. I still write. I just never have time."

"Ye were a good writer." He stated plainly, pouring himself another drink. He tilted the bottle to me, but I shook my head, putting the glass down.

"I've missed you." I sighed, in response.

"I didn't intend ta be away this long, lass. We waited for things to blow over an' by the time they did, it felt like it 'ad been too late. I wouldn't 'ave known where ta begin."

"It's okay. I'm sure the long distance charges from Ireland would have been outrageous, anyway." I tried to laugh it off.

He laughed, and then asked, in a more serious tone, "Did ye get married?"

"Why would you think that?"

"Oh, I dunno, Miss _Ramone_."

"Oh, no!" I laughed. "The station thought it sounded better. Alliteration's are more preferable for news caster's names. You really thought I was married? Was that before, or after you jammed your tongue down my throat?"

"The thought crossed my mind. I can't imagine ye being alone fer this long."

"Not the whole time. There were guys. Nothing really serious, though. It was just never the same."

"Aye, I know what cha mean." We stared at each other in silence for a good minute, just absorbing the kinetic energy circulating between us. "I can't stay fer long, lass. I've got ta meet with the FBI this afternoon."

"Can I take a wild guess?" He nodded and I continued. "Blume. She's protecting you." He nodded again. "Did you find out who killed McKinney?" I prodded.

"Off the record?"

"Completely off the record. I swear to God."

"Don't swear. We saw 'im after the bar brawl. He shot at us, but Blume 'ad scared 'im off."

"What are you boys doing, Murphy? You're gonna get yourselves killed."

"Don't worry, we got a plan. The FBI is lookin' out fer us."

"Like last time?" I questioned, taking a deep breath before probing further. "Does this end up the same as last time? You head for the hills and don't look back?"

He was silent for what felt like eternity. "I juss don't know, yet."

"You mean Connor hasn't told you, yet."

"Ye know we don't plan that far ahead."

"I don't wanna do anything that's just gonna get me hurt, again." I sighed. Suddenly teary eyed, I looked away.

"I'm sorry, lass." He whispered, gripping my chin firmly and making me face him. "My delicate Irish rose." He whispered, running his thumb along my lips. Then, all at once, he grabbed my face, his hands like a vice, steadying me for the monumental kiss he planted on my lips. Instantly, any doubt in my head had vanished. All that was left was Murphy and I. My judgment clouded over by lust and liquor. My heart was pounding in my chest, even though I knew just what to expect from the animal I had succumb to. He pushed me back against the cushions and pillows of the couch, his muscular frame pressed against me, holding me still. Murphy explored my curves with his rough, tattooed hands through the cumbersome fabric I still wore. "Are ye over it yet, love?" he murmured, his voice husky and throaty with lust. He propped himself up on his strong arms, hovering above me.

"No."

"Well aren't ye just a beautiful little liar?" He laughed. He leaned in, about to place kisses along the hollow of my throat, which he undoubtedly remembered was my ultimate weakness, besides of course him, when he uttered "We could stop, ye know."

"That's not fair."

"Ye can't resist me, lass."

He was completely right. A fire inside of me, one I thought I had extinguished long ago, had suddenly sparked again. It was as if we had just picked up right where we left off. I grabbed the nape of his neck, roughly, entangling my fingers in his hair, digging my nails into his scalp, forcing his lips to mine. I had waited too long for this to have to turn back now. "The bed?" I questioned, barely breaking our embrace.

"Why waste time?" He laughed, sliding his hand up my thigh, his thumb brushing over the damp lace covering the apex between my thighs.

"Humor me." I groaned, his lips firmly against my neck, his hands still wandering beneath my skirt.

Murphy got up from the couch, stripping out of his coat and tossing it to the floor before grabbing my hand and practically dragging me to the hall way.

"That one." I instructed, pointing to my room. He walked me towards the bed, slowly stripping me of my blouse, torturously taking his time with the cumbering buttons. He pulled his shirt off, not breaking eye contact, just putting on a little strip tease, kicking off his boots and undoing his belt, slowly taking off his jeans. As he worked on that, I unzipped my own skirt, letting the fabric fall to my ankles and stepping out as I eased myself back onto the bed, now cloaked in only my undergarments.

"For someone so holy, you certainly are a devil in disguise." I muttered. I couldn't help but wonder at how he still seemed so boyish, so immature, as if this were still high school and time had stood still for the two of us to share in this moment together.

He climbed onto me, only in his boxers, straddling my hips. He reached behind me and quickly discarded my bra, exposing me to the cold air. I bit at my lip as the warmth of his hand enveloped my breast, running his thumb gently over my nipple before replacing it quickly with his tongue. I moaned softly and tangled my fingers in his hair as he tugged gently at me with his teeth, his hand sliding down my back and gripping at my ass.

His lips and teeth locked on my neck and it was all over for me. I had given myself over to temptation willingly as this dark angel ravaged my body. There were no words to describe how I felt, intoxicated not only with the nights festivities but with his every movement as he explored familiar territory.

My hands never left the entanglement of his hair as he explored future, venturing down my bare torso. "This is new." He murmured, kissing the Celtic knot tattoo just on my left hip bone. "I like it." He smiled as he made his way downwards, teasingly pulling at my panties with his teeth.

"I was eighteen, and foolishly in love with this Irish boy who broke the law and then left, never to be seen or heard from again." I explained, exaggerating my words.

"Ain't that a shame?" A devilish smile crossed his lips as he leaned in and planted a soft kiss to the inside of my thigh, the spiky hairs of his beard teasing at the soft, supple skin as he breathed hot against me. I closed my eyes, silently begging him to go further. A blur of fingers, lips and teeth passed through my senses as he tasted every inch of me for what felt like the first time. Flashbacks played in my mind as I bucked my hips against his mouth, urging him on.

"Oh my God!" I cried. Responsively, my back arched and I reached behind me, grabbing hold of the head board. I was completely entranced as I rode the wave of an exhilarating and much needed release at the hands of this blue eyed devil.

"Lord's fuckin' name." He chuckled, trailing kisses up my stomach as I struggled to catch my breath. He knew exactly how he affected me.

Murphy groaned into my mouth as I slid a skillful hand down his boxers, gripping firmly on his most sensitive parts before letting them loose from the fabric. "Where's your patience, girl?" He whispered.

"Get them off, now! I've been running out of patience for the past decade." I hissed as he leaned forward, kicking the boxers off and discarding them on the floor. Murphy crushed his lips against mine and pushed me harshly onto the mattress, unwilling to wait any longer for what we had both been waiting all these years for. He reached down and lifted my leg around his hip slowly, making me wait and watching me intently as I grew more and more insistent. I bit down on my lip, lifting my hips to his, egging him on. Slowly, a devilish grin spread across his lips.

He leaned in, passionately kissing me before quickly, almost painfully shoving into me. I gasped at the sensation and arched my back, wrapping my leg around his back, pressing him in further, helping to control his reckless thrusts.

"Jesus Christ almighty!" He groaned as I began to tighten around him, bucking against his rhythmic thrusts.

Murphy growled in a very animalistic way as he began to pick up speed, pulling soft cries and frantic moans from my chest. He pressed further, grinding my hip into the mattress as his thrusts became frantic, nearly violent. My inhibitions had disappeared thanks to the alcohol, which, combined with the ecstasy from my romp in the sheets with the ravenous MacManus twin, left me completely spent. I clawed down his back, sending him over the edge. Murphy bit down on my neck and gripped onto the sheets tightly as he grunted in pleasure, ending with a few violent thrusts, and then collapsing onto my chest.

After finally catching his breath, he rolled off of me and muttered "I've missed ye."

"Aye." I mimicked his accent playfully, still trying to recover. I placed my head on his sound chest, wrapping myself up in the beauty that was Murphy MacManus.


	4. Chapter 4

"Christ almighty, girl." Murphy stammered.

"Better than you remember?" I laughed.

"In a different way, I guess. Ye never disappoint, lass."

"You've possibly gotten better with age." I smirked. He started to pull away, kissing my shoulder, then my cheek, finding his pants and pulling them on while still sitting on my bed. "Do you really have to go?" I pouted. I sat up straight, wrapping myself in my sheets as Murphy located his boots, leaning over the bed, tugging them on.

"Aye. I already said I wouldn't be gone this long. We got to 'ave a reunion with the detectives. Plus, after sex like that, I need a fuckin' smoke."

"You're staying with Doc, aren't you?"

"I 'ate it when you ask questions ye already know the answer ta."

"Yeah, well I hate secrets."

"I ain't keepin' secrets unless they put your pretty little arse in danger." He turned to face me, pausing while he put on his boots, still sitting on the edge of my bed. "And damn, what a mighty fine arse it is, lass. Hasn't changed a bit."

"When will I see you again?" I smiled.

He rose from the bed, fully dressed now from the waist down. He searched the floor for his shirt, finding it near my dresser. He picked it up and walked back over to me. He leaned down and kissed my forehead, a sweet gesture I used to take for granted. "I'll let ye know. We 'ave… plans tonight." He muttered under his breath, pulling his shirt on.

I made a mental note to ask him why Christ's feet were inked on his back at a more opportune time.

"Yeah, well do me a favor? Don't get yourself killed."

"Aye, lass. But if I did, it would give ye somethin' ta report." He laughed, sitting down on the bed by my feet.

I frowned at his attempt at a joke. "I have a feeling I'll still have something to report on tonight. I look forward to seeing what you boys have planned."

"Aye, it's a masterpiece. A regular fuckin' Picasso." He smiled to himself. "As long as we're askin' favors, can I ask one of ye?" I nodded in response and he continued. "Stay away from McGinty's. We're in some deep shite this time. I don't need ye ta be associated with me, lass. I wouldn't be able ta concentrate if I thought ye were in danger."

"Just like the good ole' days." I joked. I continued in a more serious tone. "I can manage that. I do have to be on that side of town today, though. My dad wanted to have lunch."

"'Ow is the old bloke?"

"He has cancer, Murph." I sighed, clutching the sheet more tightly and looking down at my lap.

"I'm sorry ta hear that." He said sincerely, leaning over and grabbing my free hand.

I wrapped my body in the sheet to walk him to the door. "Could you call me tonight? You know, after?"

"I think I could manage that, love." He paused, his hand still on the door knob.

"I have one more favor, if I could?"

"What's that?" He turned to face me.

"When all this is over and the Yakavetta family is gone…" I paused gauging his reaction, searching his face for some kind of sign. "Do you think we could start over?"

His eyes lit up, a smirk playing across his lips. "Lass, there's nothin' I'd like more." He leaned down and kissed me firmly, taking my face in his hands, causing my knees to go weak before he opened the door and walked out.

* * *

I got out of the shower and examined myself in the mirror, noting the love bites along my neck and shoulders which were extremely evident. "Fuck." I muttered. Murphy certainly knew how to leave his mark.

I got dressed and covered my "battle scars" as best I could before heading to the docks. I drove past McGinty's on my way to the little hovel of a restaurant that my father loved more than anything.

I found him sitting at his usual table. He stood to greet me, hugging me close and exclaiming how good it was to see me and how long it had been.

"I've missed you!" I replied. "How are treatments going? You look well." I took a seat.

"Nothin's new. They keep tellin' me the same things. I hope ye don't mind, I ordered our usual." I nodded, knowing he had his own routine.

"Ye look tired." He observed aloud. "Long night?" He asked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. I knew right then he knew. "So it is them, then?" He changed the subject.

I nodded, vaguely. "We can't discuss this here." I said, under my breath.

"I can't say I'm surprised. It took 'em long enough, don't ye think?" He put his hand over mine on the table. "Becca, I don't know how much longer I have. I can't say I ever approved, but I can say I'm relieved ta know ye'll be taken care of when I'm gone."

"Don't talk like that." It's something I already knew, but when we talked about the prospect of him dying, everything got scary and real again.

"It's the truth. Ye need ta come to terms with it, darlin'."

I sighed, knowing he was right, wishing he wasn't.

* * *

When I got back to my car, Tracy had left me a voicemail. She asked me to call her back, she had urgent news.

"I got an interview with this guy. He says he met them, Becca!" She yelled into the phone before I even had a chance to utter so much as a "Hello."

"How do you know he's for real?" I asked.

"I have a feeling! I just know. It has to be legit. He's willing to risk his life to talk to us. He wants to meet tonight at some hole-in-the-wall downtown. Can you make it?"

"Yeah, just send me the details."

The bar we were supposed to meet at that night was in the center of town, near the business district. I met Tracy out front and we went inside. She gave me a questioning look when she spotted my neck. "Hickeys, Becks? Really? Aren't we a little old for that?"

"They're not terribly noticeable, are they?" I asked, covering my neck with my hand.

"Put extra makeup on before you go on air." She laughed. "Who's the mystery guy?"

"No one special…" I lied. "Just someone I met last night."

She rolled her eyes at my admission. "You little minx!" She admonished as we walked inside.

He had instructed us to meet him at the bar. He would be cloaked in a purple suit. He said no cameras were allowed, but he told her she could record the interview as long as no names were used. We approached him quietly, two stools open on either side of him, Tracy took the left and I the right. We introduced ourselves, and he instructed us to call him 'Gorgeous.' He was a larger, tan man. We ordered some drinks and waited patiently. He said he could get in a lot of trouble over talking to us, that he just wanted to give us the details he could remember after we made the exchange. I looked to Tracy, giving her a questioning look. She reached in her purse, pulling out a rather thick envelope and passing it over to him.

"It's what we agreed upon." She said. She didn't tell me she was paying this guy for information on the Saints. "So, spill it. In your own words, what happened?" she said, cutting the recorder on and sitting it in front of him on the bar.

"They found me at the salon. Explained that I wouldn't be harmed if I could stage a fake meeting with some of the guys at this bar."

"What were they like?" Tracy prodded.

"Real sarcastic sons of bitches. Thought they were so funny. Got a real power kick from scaring the shit out of me."

"So they used you? They didn't hurt you in anyway?"

"Before they turned me loose, they played Russian Roulette with me. Thankfully, I got away unscathed, as you can see."

"Ya know, I thought for what I gave you I would get a better story." Tracy complained.

"That's not all." He muttered. "I know where they're hitting tonight." He admitted.

Tracy's whole face lit up. I could already read her mind. "Spill it, fat man."

He told us about this office building across the street and down a few blocks. He said Yakavetta was holding some sort of meeting there and the boys were probably gonna show up and ruin it. "But you didn't hear this from me." He finished, choking down the rest of his drink and excusing himself from the bar, standing and taking his leave.

"What did you just do?" I asked her, looking at her like she was crazy.

"It was only a couple grand. With this information I could make way more, anyway."

"You're getting a little too desperate, wouldn't you say?"

"You wont be saying that when we're both famous." She muttered. "Let's go."

"You're not suggesting that we show up to that meeting, are you?" Murphy would kill me.

"We're not gonna go in, we're just gonna wait outside. I don't wanna get shot, I just wanna be first on the scene, silly." She pulled out her cell phone and called the camera man, instructing him to meet us ASAP.

We had a meeting with destiny.


	5. Chapter 5

We arrived at the Prudential building before dark. Outside of the building, it was quiet and cold. We sat in the van, waiting for something to happen. I had lost track of time when we finally heard the sirens as police cars and FBI vehicles swarmed the building.

Tracy leapt out of the vehicle, looking for anyone that could give her information about exactly what took place.

My phone rang amidst the chaos and my heart leapt at the voice on the other end. "Ye just can't leave well enough alone, huh?" He crooned.

"It's just work. I'm glad you're okay. No one's saying much down here." I whispered.

"Ye know we kin handles ourselves, lass."

"I know…"

"I already got m'self reamed out for bein' late this mornin'."

"I'm sorry." I laughed, blushing at the memory. "Then I won't keep you. You boys behave."

"We always do." I could here the smile in his voice.

I hung up the phone and placed it back in my purse. I walked the street and found Tracy right behind the newly placed 'Caution' tape that surrounded the buildings entrance and she was eavesdropping on what the cops were mumbling to each other.

"You won't believe this shit, Becks! You see that platform up there?" She pointed to the distant building, entirely made of windows. A few stories down from the top, was a window washing platform, hanging haphazardly. "They jumped from there to the fortieth floor. Literally crashed the meeting!" she shouted.

My stomach did a nervous flip, thinking about the amazing feat the twins had undoubtedly just performed.

"They aren't releasing who they hit yet, though." She admitted. "We have to start rolling with or without the details."

She was right, sooner rather than later, other stations were gonna show up to the scene. As soon as we pulled out our camera, we were asked to cross the street due to the delicate nature of the pending investigation.

"This is Rebecca Ramone and I am here on the scene as investigations take place right behind me. In this local office building, we are told that multiple members of the Yakavetta crime family have met there timely demise at the hand at what we believe to be the Boston Saints. Officials are keeping details under wraps, but we have been told that the Saints made a dramatic entrance before taking down many members of the mob family. We will bring you more as more information becomes available. From Channel 10 News, back to you at the station."

"Perfect!" Tracy yelled. We cut the film and it was going to air in a few hours on the 5 o'clock morning news.

* * *

My sleep was rudely interrupted when I jumped awake at the sensation of a hand covering my mouth. I looked down and saw the familiar 'Aequitas' tattoo along the pointer finger. I bit down gently on his palm, causing him to release his hand from my mouth.

"Are you trying to scare a girl to death, old man?" I asked, still reeling from the adrenaline the experience caused.

"Old man?" He scoffed and I fought back a laugh, his face was priceless. "I didn't mean ta scare ye, love. I juss 'ad ta see ye."

I settled down, rolling onto my back to face him. "You could have given me some warning."

"I thought of callin' ye, but this seemed ta be more my style." He smirked, devilishly. He leaned into my chest and silenced me with a powerful kiss. Any fear or doubt I had went out the window as I was enveloped in his lips. I found myself overwhelmed with relief and passion and I let Murphy MacManus consume me, taking over my senses and relishing in the moment.

He pulled back suddenly, staring me down. "They pulled Blume off our case. We found out who start'd all this, years ago with Da. I think our next job is gonna be our last."

"You're gonna get arrested, aren't you? That is, if you don't get killed…"

"I don't know if it's gonna come ta that."

"I'm pretty sure that no matter what happens tomorrow, someone gets hurt." I sighed.

Murphy was silenced. That was a hard task to achieve. I finally broke the silence by taking his mouth with mine, planting a seething kiss on his lips, ending it by biting down on his lower lip and tugging on it gently. He moaned in pleasure at the gesture and wrapped his arm around my hip, pulling me into him. "Let's not waste tonight, then. If it's going to be our last night, let's go out with a bang."

"It's hardly goin' ta be our last night, girl. I plan on torturing you for as long as ye'll 'ave me. I still love ye, lass. I always 'ave." He promised, falling on top of me. "Now, about this 'old man' business…" He placed fiery kisses along my chin, down my neck and across my chest, raising my shirt and finding nothing underneath to hinder his discovery of my breasts.

I leaned up on my elbows and pulled off my sleep shirt, laying there underneath him in only my panties. "Don't be gentle with me. There's a time and place for that and it's not right now." I begged.

He growled, low in his throat, attacking my nipples tentatively with his teeth and his tongue. "I think that could be arranged, ma dear. I'll show ye what this 'old man' can do." He mumbled against my nipple. He teased his way down my body, stopping at my groin and staring up at me. Instead of pulling my panties off with his teeth and ravaging me with his mouth, like he ordinarily would have done, he just grinned up at me, intently watching me swell with impatience. He kissed his way back up my chest and forced my chin up, zoning in on that soft spot in the hollow of my neck that he knew drove me crazy with arousal.

I began to get frustrated with his clothing, preventing me from having the skin to skin contact that I was craving. I tugged at the lower hem of his shirt and he pulled back, allowing me to pull it over his head and discard it. Eagerly, I reached down to his crotch, fidgeting with his belt as he went back to sucking on my ear lobe, barring down gently with his teeth and causing me to purr. I refused to be sidetracked from the task at hand and continued to fumble with his zipper, shoving my hand down his boxers and pulling his manhood out, before tracing the elastic of his boxers, grasping his firm ass and then shoving his pants down, exposing him to the cool air. He lifted off of me and kicked his pants to the floor before he ground against me shamelessly, scoffing to himself. He was toying with me, teasing me. Well, two could play at the game.

I raised my hip, using my thigh to flip him over, pinning him down beneath me with my hips and using my legs as leverage, I leaned into him, pinning his hands above his head at the wrists, relishing in the fact that I had the upper hand.

"That's 'ardly fair now, is it?" He whined, thrusting his hips to meet mine, painfully pressing against my clit, causing me to cry out.

I reached between us with one hand, trying to hold his wrists bound with the other, and shifted my panties to the side, sliding down onto him with one fluid motion. He groaned in frustration as he realized he had lost. I raised my hips as I leaned in to kiss him, sliding up his shaft. He easily broke his wrists free and grabbed my hips, shoving me back down, holding me in that position. We both grunted at the sensation. He slid his hands up my rib cage and supported his hands in the sensitive part underneath my breasts, guiding my body up and down as he met me with equal fervor. He slid his hands back down my hips, pawing at the lace material still hanging there. He gripped at the hems of the obstructive fabric and tugged, ripping them off and throwing the ruined fabric to the floor. I leaned down, supporting myself with my hands on Murphy's pecks as they flexed underneath me. My breasts hung in front of his face and he watched them bounce, mesmerized with how he could control their motion with his thrusts.

Suddenly, he sat up, still holding me on his lap. He turned his thighs into a chair and helped me slide back and forth. He gripped the back of my head, entangling his hands in my hair, kissing me urgently before he flipped me over, taking back control, hovering over with that familiar mischievous smirk playing on his pouting lips. He bit down on my neck as he reached down between us, running his thumb over my swollen clit. I whimpered in response, the sensation suddenly too much for me. "Just fuck me, MacManus." I breathed into his ear.

"Say that again, lass." He moaned.

"Fuck me, Murphy. Hard." He slid one of his arms under the small of my back, thrusting and grinding me into him further, deepening our pleasure and removing all space between us. I came fast and hard around him, screaming his name. My spasms sent him over the edge and he collapsed onto my chest, muttering "Holy shite!" as we both fought to catch our breath. We shared in a series of romantic and intimate kisses and we reveled in the moment and fell asleep in each other's arms.


	6. Chapter 6

By the time I woke up, it was the next afternoon and I found myself alone in my bed. I frowned to myself, sitting up and taking a look around. I found a note beside me on my bed side table.

_Rebecca – _

_I'm sorry about taking off so quickly. Connor called me early this morning. He and Da needed me for an urgent matter and I couldn't bear to wake you to say good bye. If all goes well this afternoon, I'll be able to take you up on that fresh start. If not, know that I love you more than life itself and that will always be true. _

_Murph _

Tracy called me and I took her up on an offer to go to lunch. We talked about how well this morning's report had gone and the possibility of what would happen next. I had a very good idea that something big was going to happen today, but I obviously couldn't say anything.

We got sidetracked and ended up sitting at the bar, catching up and reminiscing longer than we had planned. At around 5 o'clock our conversation was interrupted by a special broadcast that caught everyone's attention, quieting all conversation and causing a hush over the loud restaurant. The bar tender turned up the volume as the entire crowd stared in awe.

"_We've just received word that the MacManus twins, better known to the population of Boston as the Boston Saints, have been apprehended after their last, and possibly greatest, hit of all time, killing a slew of wanted men in a greenhouse in rural Boston. Currently, no other news is available on the situation but we can tell you that the Saints, along with an accomplice, have been apprehended and are in federal custody. Found dead on the scene, among others, was the father of the Saints, Noah MacManus, also known as Il Duce. We will bring you more on the story as it becomes available."_ My fellow newscaster informed us.

I gasped aloud, my eyes welling up with tears.

"You okay?" Tracy asked, putting her hand on mine.

"We should go." I managed to whisper. Tracy pulled out her phone and called the station. Luckily, they said we could meet the camera men on the scene since I had been doing the story all week.

Racing to the location, it seemed as though we couldn't get there soon enough. My mind was racing. I obviously had not prepared myself enough to deal with this very real possibility. I honestly don't think I ever could.

Upon arrival at the scene, it was a mad house. We couldn't get any new information besides the fact the brother's had been brought to the Hoag Maximum Security Prison, not far from where we were. We found out about their new partner, a Hispanic man who remained nameless, that had been under critical condition when they found him on the scene. Aside from a few bullet wounds, the twins were ultimately unscathed and had turned themselves over willingly.

"How hard do you think it would be to get an interview with the men in custody?" I thought aloud.

Tracy scoffed at the idea. "You've got to be kidding me, right? It would be near impossible. But hell if it wouldn't make a fucking great story." She called her husband and they talked while I thought about exactly what I was going to do. "Kevin said it might take a while, but he knows some of the guys at the prison. He might be able to pull a few strings, but he said not to get your hopes up." Tracy said, returning to my side.

We stayed a few more hours, putting together a short story for the late night news broad cast.

It was late before I made it back to my apartment. I cried myself to sleep that night, restlessly tossing and turning all night.

The next day, I found it hard to focus on anything. I was camping out on my couch when I received a rather unexpected phone call. "Hello?" I questioned. Despite my better judgment, I answered the unrecognizable number.

"Allo? Is this Rebecca?" The unfamiliar voice asked in an Irish accent.

"This is." I stated plainly.

"My name is Father Sibeal. Murphy asked me to contact you in light of recent events." He explained. I was suddenly very interested in what the strange man had to say. "I'd like to meet you, if at all possible. I have a proposition you may find quite interesting, to say the least."

We agreed that Father Sibeal would just come to my apartment. I got dressed and waited impatiently. In an hour's time, the Father arrived and I allowed him in.

"It's nice to meet ye, lass. The boys 'ave said nothin' but good things about ye."

"It's nice to meet you." I said, taking his hand and leading him to the dining table. "May I ask why you're here?"

"I'll git right down to it, miss. I'll be needing yer assistance." He began. "I'll be perfectly 'onest, the boys didn't want ye involved in anyway. The way things are going, we juss don't see any way 'round it. The Catholic church is behind them all the way. We're confident we can get them out. I'm 'elping some friends uh the boys in a covert mission to break them from prison."

"Eunice Bloom, right?"

"Aye, the very same. And Paul Smecker."

"Smecker's alive?" I gasped. I had reported on his death years back. I never met the man, but I was grateful to him for the part he played in protecting the boys the first go around.

"An elaborate hoax to protect him. The agents are in 'ot water for backin' the Saints." He paused, no doubt gauging my reaction.

"No offense, Father, but I fail to see how I fit into this plan."

"You, ma dear, are gonna be our key into the prison."


	7. Chapter 7

Kevin's persistence, along with help from Dolly and Duffy pulling a few strings, got me an illusive and highly sought after interview with the Saints.

It was over a week since their arrest and they already had a trial set for next month. The state of Massachusetts was pushing the trial forward because of the impending popularity of the Saints. Overwhelming reactions from citizens in the state testified the innocence of the Boston Saints and demanded they be released immediately, but the FBI had other ideas. Vigilante heroes had no place in polite society and lead investigator Special Agent Kuntsler wanted to enforce the full extent of the law to see that that the twins never saw the outside of the prison again.

In order for me to get the interview, I had to sign a waiver stating that my exposé was going to portray the Saints as the bad guys. The FBI wanted to cut down on the outcry from the public by trying to cut the boost of morale. As much as it pained me to do so, I signed the document willingly. My job was to take the camera's into the prison and look for lapses in security, to find possible points of entry. The ultimate goal of today's interview was to find a way to break the boys out and see to it that they never made it to trial.

I met Dolly and Duffy at McGinty's where they prepped me for the interview.

"Remember, act impartial. This is your first time meeting the boys. All you know about them is what you saw on television, what you read in the papers. You're just there to ask questions." Dolly explained.

"The mic has a microscopic camera in it. We'll be able to see everything that you see." Dolly said, putting my microphone on my collar and fitting the box into my skirt. "They know you're coming in all ready to go, but they won't allow camera's until you get into the private room. The boys are in the infirmary, on solitary confinement. We got you one hour."

They continued to hound me with information until it was time for me to go.

"Good luck." Duffy said, pulling me into a hug.

"Do us proud." Dolly encouraged. I nodded in agreement, slipping out the door and heading to the Hoag.

The building was dark and looming. Waiting at the gates I found Tracy, Kevin, and our camera crew.

"There you are!" Tracy exclaimed. "I thought you'd be here earlier! This is a huge deal!"

"Believe me, I know." I admitted. "I'm actually nervous."

An officer came and opened the gate, leading us up to the door. Upon entering, we had to submit to metal detectors and frisking. They explained to us that only three of us could go in at a time. That meant that only the camera man, the boom mic operator, and I would be allowed upstairs.

This upset Tracy to no end. She reluctantly gave me the folder full of questions. "Make sure you leave time to cover all the questions. It's only an hour. Make it count." She pleaded.

"Jesus. This is a book!" I observed, flipping through the folder and reviewing the questions.

"It's barely a start!" She laughed. "Good luck." She said, hugging me before an armed officer led me and my accomplices upstairs.

We were led through rows of cells. Prisoners came to the doors, administering catcalls and whistling. The officer instructed me to ignore the sexist treatment, the men were just not used to seeing women on a day to day basis.

I felt like they were leading us through a labyrinth. We wound and weaved past cells and up stairs to the infirmary. At the top floor in main tower, under maximum security, they were hiding the Saints. I made sure to keep the mic in full view of the paths we were taking, standing beside the guard as he led the way.

"We keep guards at the doors 24/7. He's gonna be in the room with you, for your own safety. No physical contanct. These men are hardened criminals. We're taking the utmost precautions." He explained.

My stomach was turning. I wasn't really sure what to expect, but I knew I wanted to see Murphy.

The guard who led us up nodded to the armed officer at the door and shifted, turning and opening the door and motioning for us to enter the room.

I'd like to say that the first thing I noticed was Murphy, but that would be a lie. The first thing I noticed upon entering the room were the hospital beds, the heart monitor and the breathing machine in the background attached to a man I didn't recognize. The second thing I noticed was the table in the center of the room, and the third thing I noticed were the twins, standing behind the table, bound in shackles and covered in bloody bandages.

It took everything I had to control my emotions. My first instinct was to jump over the table and into his arms, to try and heal his wounds with kisses.

"Miss Ramone, this is Connor and Murphy. The one in the bed is Romeo. He's in an induced coma right now. You'll understand he can't be present mentally for the interview." He said, laughing to himself. "Boys, this is Rebecca Ramone. You know the drill." He nodded and the boys sat down in unison. To my surprise, they seemed to not acknowledge our affiliation and seemed to understand we were playing parts in an elaborate rouse.

"Please, 'ave a seat." Connor said, motioning best he could to the chair across from them without straining in his restraints.

"Are the shackles really necessary? They're kind of distracting for an interview, don't you think?" I asked the guard, taking my seat.

"It was in the waiver, miss. Orders are orders." He shrugged.

"Make yerself at 'ome, lass." Murphy encouraged. "We already 'ave."

As relieved as I was to see him alive, it pained me to see him in this state, locked away.

"Your hour's already ticking away." The officer said, turning to leave and closing the door behind him. The camera man didn't waste any time, cutting the camera on and getting a prime spot and angle.

I was mentally punching myself for worrying more about the encounter, and less about the interview itself. Despite Tracy's pleading, I had neglected to review all of these questions now sitting on the table in the open packet before me. I put my best news face on and set to start the questions, but the questions Tracy had prepared were so blasé. I decided to do my best and improving for an hour.

"We're gonna start out really easy, kind of ease into the interview. It's gonna be edited for television, so don't worry about flubbing your words, just say whatever first comes to mind. We're looking for honesty."

"Ye'll 'ave no problem with all that, lass. Our faces were made for the camera. Ain't that right, Murph?" Connor laughed.

"Aye. The camera loves us."

"It's amazing you boys have been able to keep such a clear head given your current state. How exactly have you been able to keep your wits about you in such trying times?"

"We've always expected all uh this to catch up ta us at some point." Connor answered.

"We 'ave been prayin' ev'ryday about it. Tha Lord 'as a plan fer us." Murphy said, his crystal eyes boring into me.

"I'm sorry to hear about your father." I admitted, staring back at him, trying to convey sympathy with just my eyes. "What kind of influence has he had on your lives?"

"Honestly? Our first 27 years, we didn't even know the man. It's actually a funny story." Connor began. He talked candidly about how they found their father and how he had tried to kill them at first, not knowing who they were at the time.

I realized that reminiscing wasn't part of my contract and tried to gain control again by changing the subject. "So, you're saying that killing is in your blood, coursing through your veins?"

"I guess ye could say all that." Connor said.

"Do you think of yourselves as cold, hard killers? Or do you honestly believe you're doing a righteous act?"

"We wouldn't say all that, miss. We've killed murderers and drug dealers. Bad men. Men that deserved ta be punished fer their indiscretions." Murphy added.

"Don't you think that job is better suited to be dealt with by the cops?"

"Short answer? They take too long." Connor laughed, glancing over at their attendant.

Our interview continued, very candidly with me improving a lot of the questions, trying to stick to the plan. At the end of the hour, the guard cleared his voice and tapped his wrist.

"One more?" I asked him. He nodded, adjusting the gun strapped to his shoulder.

"Alright. After all that's happened, do you boys have any regrets?"

"Not a one." They said, almost in unison.

"Alright, times up boys. Tell the nice lady bye." The guard said, ushering the camera men out of the room. I stood to go, pushing out my chair.

"I 'ope ye got all yer answers." Connor said. I smiled politely, trying to seem impartial.

"It was a pleasure, miss." Murphy said, saying everything else with his eyes. I glanced at the guard, who was turned toward the door, talking to the other officer. I quickly blew him a kiss and turned to leave, forcing myself to not look back.

* * *

**I got a few PM's on the last chapter with people concerned that that was the last chapter. I would at least give some warning before ending a story. **

**With that being said, the next chapter is going to be the last, but don't worry, I have already started the sequel. **

**Thanks for all the love and support!**


	8. Chapter 8

**This is the final chapter of ****_Angels and Saints_****, so before anyone flips out, the first chapter of the sequel, ****_Usque Ad Mortem_****, is already posted. Enjoy!**

* * *

"This is gold, Becca!" Tracy gloated as we watched back all the footage. "I wish you had gone through my questions, but it's really good! Can you believe these Micks? They don't even seem remorseful."

I ignored her, focusing on the tape. I was really pleased with how it turned out. All in all, I would say it went smashingly.

Duffy and Dolly seemed as pleased as Tracy was with the footage I had given them. They called me after I had delivered it and said it was tremendously helpful. They promised they would let me know what the next step was.

I counted the days.

"They're psychotic! Normal people don't do stuff like this!" She exclaimed.

"They come out pretty normal on film." I muttered over her shoulder.

"So do most crazies." She scoffed. "We're gonna get our own special for sure. People will pay up for this Saint stuff."

She definitely had a point. _Especially after they escape_ I thought.

* * *

_ "Yer father's not home?" He asked, raising one eyebrow as he stood in front of me at my door. _

_"He had some kind of meeting at the plant. He shouldn't be home for a while." _

_"Kin I come in, then?" He placed one hand on the door, leaning over me as I pressed my back to the sturdy wood behind me. He had me cornered. _

_"For a few minutes. Don't get any ideas."_

_He laughed, sliding his hand down the length of the door and stopping at the handle, twisting it open as he slid his other hand behind the small of my back, catching me. I twisted around quickly, leading him to my room. _

_We had been dating for almost over month and he had never been inside my room. My father forbade boys being anywhere near my room. He allowed Murphy to take me out and was kind of warming up to the idea of us seeing each other. He was just starting to drink at McGinty's with the boys again after a few months of avoiding it completely. My father knew he couldn't stop me from seeing him. _

_"Did ye 'ave a good time, love?" Murphy asked, shaking me from my thoughts. I sat down on my bed, but he wandered around the room, admiring my décor, the pictures outlining my vanity. _

_"Of course." I smiled. "I always have a good time with you." It was true. Murphy MacManus was the bad boy your parents were supposed to keep you away from. He was impetuous and vivacious. He was completely controlled by his emotions and tended to run hot-tempered. It was addicting, being around so much testosterone and energy._

_"I like yer room." He said, picking up a strip of photos we had taken in a picture booth at the fair, the only pictures we had together. "Yer place is nice." _

_"Thank you." I mumbled nervously. I had to admit, I had never had a boy in my room, let alone a man._

_"It's a lot nicer than stayin' at my place." He admonished. _

_"That's only because your brother's not here to interrupt." I laughed. The few times we had tried to be intimate with each other had all failed at the hands of Murphy's twin, Connor. He either walked in before anything happened or brought home a _friend _of his own. We never made it past heavy petting. _

_"Tis true." He laughed. He placed the pictures down on the table and sat beside me. "Ye don't need ta be nervous." He said, squeezing my knee. "We don't have ta." This sweet side of Murphy was rare. _

_I leaned over and kissed him. "I want to." I said simply against his lips. That was all it took for the beast to be unleashed. _

_Murphy grabbed the back of my head, grabbing my hair and trapping me in his grasp. He pulled back all of a sudden, holding me still, looking me dead in the eye. "I love ye." He said firmly. _

_"I love you." I breathed, falling back onto the bed as Murphy lay beside me, our lips still touching. He trailed kisses down my neck, causing me to moan when he hit the base of my throat. He kissed the fabric of my shirt, all the way down to my belly button. He looked up at me, waiting for me to breathe. I nodded in compliance and he slid his skilled hands underneath my shirt and I leaned up so he could pull it off. I reached behind me, about to undo the clasp of my bra when he pulled up, putting his hand over mine. "Allow me." He whispered, taking over where my hands left off, snapping the clasps and running his hands up to the shoulder straps, hooking his thumbs underneath and slowly pulling them over my shoulders and pulling the contraption off. "Yer beautiful." He murmured, taking my breasts in his hands, kissing them and tweaking my nipples between his thumb and forefinger. I leaned my head back, reveling in his touch. I never trusted someone so much, this just felt right. He continued to torture me, kissing me and nipping me all over, making his way down my body, letting his hands wander, discovering me. He stopped again at the button of my pants, looking up again, waiting for me to tell him to stop. _

_"It's okay" I assured him. _

_He kissed the soft skin above my pants waist line before undoing the button and pulling on my zipper. I leaned up and helped him pull my pants over my legs, kicking them onto the floor along with my modest underwear. As I repositioned myself under him, I reached under his shirt and pulled it over his head. He smiled at me, leaning back down to kiss me while undoing his pants with one hand. I heard his boots hit the floor and watched him awkwardly wiggle out of his jeans. He lay above me, fully unclothed. I glanced between us and laughed to myself. I had never seen a man naked before. Murphy saw my astonishment and hovered above me. "We kin stop." _

_"No. It's just… I want this. I do." I didn't want to admit what I was thinking. I was embarrassed at how inexperienced I was compared to Murphy. _

_He leaned in, absorbing my fear and drowning it with his mouth. I welcomed the kiss, quelling my thoughts and allowing myself to live in the moment, letting Murphy take the most sacred part of me that I had to offer. I heard the little foil packet rip, Murphy wiggled a little, then, all at once, I felt him enter me. It stung and I whimpered beneath him. "Are ye all right?" He asked, stopping all together. _

_"It's fine. Keep going." _

_"Are ye sure?" I nodded. I pulled him down on top of me and bit down on his shoulder. He moved slowly, patiently, as if I were made of glass. After a while, it stopped hurting. I got used to the feeling and it actually became pleasurable. I loosened my grip on his arms and he seemed to respond to my reaction, speeding up. "Trust me?" I nodded, trusting him completely. He reached between us, rubbing at me gently with his fingers, increasing the overwhelming feeling in my groin. I arched my back and groaned beneath him and he responded. All at once everything in me released and it seemed to be the same for him. He fell beside me, panting deeply as I was. He kissed my shoulder in a completely sweet gesture. _

_"That was…" I began. _

_"Amazin'." He finished. _

_We embraced each other, reveling in this monumental event in our relationship when we heard the front door open. _

_"Shit!" Murphy whispered, leaping out of bed and grabbing his clothes, fighting to get into his pants in record time. He lifted my window and threw his shirt and shoes down in a ball, coming back to me, kissing me on the lips. "I'll call ye." He whispered as he sat down on the sill, flipping his legs over and shimmying down the drain pipe while I slipped into my night gown and pretended to be asleep. _

I woke with a start from my memory as my phone rang. I recognized the number and answered eagerly. "We found a way in."

* * *

I can't tell you this story from experience, because I wasn't there. I can, however, tell you what I heard on good authority from Father Sibeal as we waited on the boat. I can also tell you what the Boston Saints told me on the agonizingly long trip.

_"Fuckin' 'eroic, they were!" Connor had raved."Like somethin' straight out o' a movie!" _

_"Ye fuckin' wish, Conn!" Murphy teased._

Father Sibeal, being involved not only as the boys uncle, but also as a concerned clergy, helped orchestrate the valiant escape from the Hoag as a favor, not only to his brother, but to the innocent people that the Saints helped to protect. As he tells it, there are only three things you can count on in federal prison; conjugals, fights, and sanctity of religion. That being said, it wasn't hard to sneak in as a stand in priest if the federally appointed preacher found himself, excuse the pun, tied Sibeal got his trusted friend Father Malhone to fill in for the part of clergy.

Dolly and Duffy found it much easier to impersonate guards.

The three had been able to infiltrate the Hoag in under an hour and no one even realized.

Among hardened criminals, tensions were so high that it wasn't unheard of to start a simple riot. All they needed was a diversion, something to keep the guards busy as they made their way up the stairs. To this day, they didn't know exactly what started the food fight, but it exploded across the whole cafeteria long enough for Duffy to pull the fire alarm, simultaneously releasing the locks on all of the cells in the prison. Dolly had already snuck to the top floor cells where the boys had been moved once they seemed to be in good health.

In the mean time, Father Malhone broke into the security office and shorted out the main frame, simultaneously shutting off all power in the building. As a security precaution, all the gates and main entrances opened.

Romeo was in a solitary cell just beside them and Dolly led them down the hall to the security door which led to a long hall and an elevator that went through the building.

They took the elevator down to the bottom floor where a service truck waited with supplies. Duffy was already there, behind the wheel, waiting for orders. Without question, they piled in the truck and drove through the open gates.

* * *

"_Ye've got a decision ta make, lass._" The words echoed in my mind as I anxiously awaited the arrival of the boys.

It wasn't so much of a decision as it was the acceptance of a calling I had been more than willing to accept for the past few years. I knew in my heart I was always his. It was just a fact, no matter how many times I tried to move on – a side effect of the MacManus man curse.

It was a terrifying concept, but I knew I wouldn't be happy with myself if I let him slip away again.

The words fell from my mouth without thinking. "I'll see you there."

No remorse, no regrets, just emotions.


End file.
